loose is my religion

jog. slowly. no choice. race + lack of stretching + computer hours = tin man. wind and rain not nice but no bother, wearing fleece as know this will be slow. to woods, slowly. mud, vaguely remember that stuff. black labrador, barking madly, no bother. steep little hill some bother. plod on round sheltering woods. line ‘loose is my religion’ pops into head. almost could be. cannot run when stiff, just sink. two laps enough. manage imitation of running on way home. rain has stopped. weights, stretching after. has to be done.